But here, continued PHILO, in examining the ancient system of the soul of
the world, there strikes me, all on a sudden, a new idea, which, if just,
must go near to subvert all your reasoning, and destroy even your first
inferences, on which you repose such confidence. If the universe bears a
greater likeness to animal bodies and to vegetables, than to the works of
human art, it is more probable that its cause resembles the cause of the
former than that of the latter, and its origin ought rather to be
ascribed to generation or vegetation, than to reason or design. Your
conclusion, even according to your own principles, is therefore lame and
defective.

Pray open up this argument a little further, said DEMEA, for I do not
rightly apprehend it in that concise manner in which you have expressed
it.

Our friend CLEANTHES, replied PHILO, as you have heard, asserts, that
since no question of fact can be proved otherwise than by experience, the
existence of a Deity admits not of proof from any other medium. The
world, says he, resembles the works of human contrivance; therefore its
cause must also resemble that of the other. Here we may remark, that the
operation of one very small part of nature, to wit man, upon another very
small part, to wit that inanimate matter lying within his reach, is the
rule by which CLEANTHES judges of the origin of the whole; and he
measures objects, so widely disproportioned, by the same individual
standard. But to waive all objections drawn from this topic, I affirm,
that there are other parts of the universe (besides the machines of human
invention) which bear still a greater resemblance to the fabric of the
world, and which, therefore, afford a better conjecture concerning the
universal origin of this system. These parts are animals and vegetables.
The world plainly resembles more an animal or a vegetable, than it does a
watch or a knitting-loom. Its cause, therefore, it is more probable,
resembles the cause of the former. The cause of the former is generation
or vegetation. The cause, therefore, of the world, we may infer to be
something similar or analogous to generation or vegetation.

But how is it conceivable, said DEMEA, that the world can arise from any
thing similar to vegetation or generation?

Very easily, replied PHILO. In like manner as a tree sheds its seed into
the neighbouring fields, and produces other trees; so the great
vegetable, the world, or this planetary system, produces within itself
certain seeds, which, being scattered into the surrounding chaos,
vegetate into new worlds. A comet, for instance, is the seed of a world;
and after it has been fully ripened, by passing from sun to sun, and star
to star, it is at last tossed into the unformed elements which every
where surround this universe, and immediately sprouts up into a new
system.

Or if, for the sake of variety (for I see no other advantage), we should
suppose this world to be an animal; a comet is the egg of this animal:
and in like manner as an ostrich lays its egg in the sand, which, without
any further care, hatches the egg, and produces a new animal; so...

I understand you, says DEMEA: But what wild, arbitrary suppositions are
these! What data have you for such extraordinary conclusions? And is the
slight, imaginary resemblance of the world to a vegetable or an animal
sufficient to establish the same inference with regard to both? Objects,
which are in general so widely different, ought they to be a standard for
each other?

Right, cries PHILO: This is the topic on which I have all along insisted.
I have still asserted, that we have no data to establish any system of
cosmogony. Our experience, so imperfect in itself, and so limited both in
extent and duration, can afford us no probable conjecture concerning the
whole of things. But if we must needs fix on some hypothesis; by what
rule, pray, ought we to determine our choice? Is there any other rule
than the greater similarity of the objects compared? And does not a plant
or an animal, which springs from vegetation or generation, bear a
stronger resemblance to the world, than does any artificial machine,
which arises from reason and design?

But what is this vegetation and generation of which you talk? said DEMEA.
Can you explain their operations, and anatomise that fine internal
structure on which they depend?

As much, at least, replied PHILO, as CLEANTHES can explain the operations
of reason, or anatomise that internal structure on which it depends. But
without any such elaborate disquisitions, when I see an animal, I infer,
that it sprang from generation; and that with as great certainty as you
conclude a house to have been reared by design. These words, generation,
reason, mark only certain powers and energies in nature, whose effects
are known, but whose essence is incomprehensible; and one of these
principles, more than the other, has no privilege for being made a
standard to the whole of nature.

In reality, DEMEA, it may reasonably be expected, that the larger the
views are which we take of things, the better will they conduct us in our
conclusions concerning such extraordinary and such magnificent subjects.
In this little corner of the world alone, there are four principles,
reason, instinct, generation, vegetation, which are similar to each
other, and are the causes of similar effects. What a number of other
principles may we naturally suppose in the immense extent and variety of
the universe, could we travel from planet to planet, and from system to
system, in order to examine each part of this mighty fabric? Any one of
these four principles above mentioned, (and a hundred others which lie
open to our conjecture,) may afford us a theory by which to judge of the
origin of the world; and it is a palpable and egregious partiality to
confine our view entirely to that principle by which our own minds
operate. Were this principle more intelligible on that account, such a
partiality might be somewhat excusable: But reason, in its internal
fabric and structure, is really as little known to us as instinct or
vegetation; and, perhaps, even that vague, indeterminate word, Nature, to
which the vulgar refer every thing, is not at the bottom more
inexplicable. The effects of these principles are all known to us from
experience; but the principles themselves, and their manner of operation,
are totally unknown; nor is it less intelligible, or less conformable to
experience, to say, that the world arose by vegetation, from a seed shed
by another world, than to say that it arose from a divine reason or
contrivance, according to the sense in which CLEANTHES understands it.

But methinks, said DEMEA, if the world had a vegetative quality, and
could sow the seeds of new worlds into the infinite chaos, this power
would be still an additional argument for design in its author. For
whence could arise so wonderful a faculty but from design? Or how can
order spring from any thing which perceives not that order which it
bestows?

You need only look around you, replied PHILO, to satisfy yourself with
regard to this question. A tree bestows order and organisation on that
tree which springs from it, without knowing the order; an animal in the
same manner on its offspring; a bird on its nest; and instances of this
kind are even more frequent in the world than those of order, which arise
from reason and contrivance. To say, that all this order in animals and
vegetables proceeds ultimately from design, is begging the question; nor
can that great point be ascertained otherwise than by proving, a priori,
both that order is, from its nature, inseparably attached to thought; and
that it can never of itself, or from original unknown principles, belong
to matter.

But further, DEMEA; this objection which you urge can never be made use
of by CLEANTHES, without renouncing a defence which he has already made
against one of my objections. When I inquired concerning the cause of
that supreme reason and intelligence into which he resolves every thing;
he told me, that the impossibility of satisfying such inquiries could
never be admitted as an objection in any species of philosophy. "We must
stop somewhere", says he; "nor is it ever within the reach of human
capacity to explain ultimate causes, or show the last connections of any
objects. It is sufficient, if any steps, so far as we go, are supported
by experience and observation." Now, that vegetation and generation, as
well as reason, are experienced to be principles of order in nature, is
undeniable. If I rest my system of cosmogony on the former, preferably to
the latter, it is at my choice. The matter seems entirely arbitrary. And
when CLEANTHES asks me what is the cause of my great vegetative or
generative faculty, I am equally entitled to ask him the cause of his
great reasoning principle. These questions we have agreed to forbear on
both sides; and it is chiefly his interest on the present occasion to
stick to this agreement. Judging by our limited and imperfect experience,
generation has some privileges above reason: for we see every day the
latter arise from the former, never the former from the latter.

Compare, I beseech you, the consequences on both sides. The world, say I,
resembles an animal; therefore it is an animal, therefore it arose from
generation. The steps, I confess, are wide; yet there is some small
appearance of analogy in each step. The world, says CLEANTHES, resembles
a machine; therefore it is a machine, therefore it arose from design. The
steps are here equally wide, and the analogy less striking. And if he
pretends to carry on my hypothesis a step further, and to infer design or
reason from the great principle of generation, on which I insist; I may,
with better authority, use the same freedom to push further his
hypothesis, and infer a divine generation or theogony from his principle
of reason. I have at least some faint shadow of experience, which is the
utmost that can ever be attained in the present subject. Reason, in
innumerable instances, is observed to arise from the principle of
generation, and never to arise from any other principle.

HESIOD, and all the ancient mythologists, were so struck with this
analogy, that they universally explained the origin of nature from an
animal birth, and copulation. PLATO too, so far as he is intelligible,
seems to have adopted some such notion in his TIMAEUS.

The BRAHMINS assert, that the world arose from an infinite spider, who
spun this whole complicated mass from his bowels, and annihilates
afterwards the whole or any part of it, by absorbing it again, and
resolving it into his own essence. Here is a species of cosmogony, which
appears to us ridiculous; because a spider is a little contemptible
animal, whose operations we are never likely to take for a model of the
whole universe. But still here is a new species of analogy, even in our
globe. And were there a planet wholly inhabited by spiders, (which is
very possible,) this inference would there appear as natural and
irrefragable as that which in our planet ascribes the origin of all
things to design and intelligence, as explained by CLEANTHES. Why an
orderly system may not be spun from the belly as well as from the brain,
it will be difficult for him to give a satisfactory reason.

I must confess, PHILO, replied CLEANTHES, that of all men living, the
task which you have undertaken, of raising doubts and objections, suits
you best, and seems, in a manner, natural and unavoidable to you. So
great is your fertility of invention, that I am not ashamed to
acknowledge myself unable, on a sudden, to solve regularly such
out-of-the-way difficulties as you incessantly start upon me: though I
clearly see, in general, their fallacy and error. And I question not, but
you are yourself, at present, in the same case, and have not the solution
so ready as the objection: while you must be sensible, that common sense
and reason are entirely against you; and that such whimsies as you have
delivered, may puzzle, but never can convince us.